Page 39 of Phishing for Love
He straightens, excitement flickering across his face. “All right.” He indicates my chair. “Up you get.”
“Wait a minute.” I hold up my hand in the classicstopsignal. “What’s the prize in this bet?”
My comment seems to rattle his composure. Good. The man could do with some rattling. He’s way too self-composed.
“I don’t mean a literal bet,” he explains with a frown. “It’s simply a figure of speech.”
I smile at him. “Well, let’s make it fun.”
He crinkles his brow, as if to say,Fun? Explain this strange phenomenon.“Security is a serious issue, Tess.”
“Yes, Aaron, I take security very seriously.” For the most part. “But come on, live a little. Let’s make it fun.”
He’s still frowning. It’s once again clear to me why his training session wasn’t the liveliest.
“How about we keep the bet small?” I propose, as though I’m dealing with a wild, skittish animal. “How about the loser has to buy the winner an iced vanilla latte?”
“An iced vanilla latte,” he echoes. “Wow, you really go all out on your bets.”
I tilt my head, considering him. Was that humor? “Did you just crack a joke, Sinclair?”
“A joke that was wasted on you, Miller,” he grumbles.
“Give me a moment,” I say with a smile. “I’m still recovering from the shock.”
He stares at me, steady-eyed. “Okay, I’ll take you up on your bet, but I don’t drink vanilla lattes.”
“Of course, you don’t,” I respond, barely restraining my eye roll. “How about a bitter long black for you then?”
Guilt pricks me as soon as the words in all their shades of meanness leave my mouth. I can tell by the way his head jerks slightly that I have wounded him. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.”
He nods in quiet acceptance of my apology.
“Look, the drink is beside the point,” I say. “The prize can be anything, but it doesn’t matter, because you’re going to lose.”
“You’re that sure of your password?”
“I am.”
He runs a hand over his jaw. I receive the distinct impression he’s hiding a grin. “All right, let’s raise the stakes then. The winner will get a work minion for the day.”
Curiosity settles in my chest. “Keep talking.”
“For the duration of one workday, whoever loses the bet will have to perform whatever low-level tasks the winnerneeds doing. Making coffee. Organizing lunch. Washing cups. Photocopying.”
I straighten in my chair. “How about waiting in the online queue for Taylor Swift tickets?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Fine.” It was worth a try. I fix my eyes on his serious, handsome face. “I think, Captain Security, you’re beginning to grasp the concept of fun.”
His lips twitch. “You won’t be saying that when you lose.”
I give up trying not to smile. I am so going to win this. The thought of Aaron doing my bidding for one whole day leaves me almost giddy with anticipation.
“Restart your laptop,” he instructs me.
I save everything I’m working on, then I click Restart in the dropdown menu and get to my feet, yielding my chair for him. He grabs another swivel chair for me and positions it next to him. I plonk myself down, tucking one leg beneath me and he drops into my chair, long legs sprawled in front of him.
